


Tell me more

by Miss_Kitten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Kitten/pseuds/Miss_Kitten
Summary: Reader’s known for blurting out random facts, much to the amusement of her friends. What she doesn’t know is that Harry enjoys it more than he shows.





	Tell me more

A letter that came on your 11th birthday was a surprise, for you and your parents. Why would someone sent an owl with a letter to an 11 years-old girl? It was even more shocking when your mom read it out loud, with shaking voice stating that you were a witch.

A witch? With a magic? Magic didn’t exist, maybe only in fairytales your father used to read you before sleep. But it turned out to be true, as you finally understood why those strange, hard to explain things around you had happened.

When you were angry or upset the lights would flicker around you, causing you to almost jump out of your own skin. You were scared, unable to find a logical reason, even if your dad told you that it was your energy supplier’s fault.

After the initial shock, your parents seemed to be happy. You were special, they always knew that, they’d told you and you’d smiled, feeling that they would not deny it, but support you and root for you.

Your mom was more hyped than you when the two of you arrived at Diagon Alley to buy everything you might need before going to Hogwarts. Having all the books, you’d read a bit about the school’s history to be prepared for Sorting Ceremony and a bright grin appeared on your face when the Sorting Hat assigned you to Ravenclaw.

Thirst for knowledge – it fit you perfectly.

_____

You’re sitting in the library, working on an essay Professor McGonagall gave you. There are two huge volumes laying in front of you, opened on pages with information you require, a piece of parchment and your quill, at that moment waiting for you start writing.

By the same desk, on your right sits Hermione, both of you reading in silence. It was easy to form a friendship with her – she was a curious, clever witch, born in Muggle family as well, so the two of you bonded quite fast. Throughout five years of your education you’ve spent a lot of evenings with her, and through that you’ve met the famous Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, quickly developing a sort of crush on the former. Although, you didn’t utter a word. There are many girls that fancy Harry, not because of his personality but only because of the fact that he’s the Chosen One. It didn’t matter to you. You liked him for his character, for adorable clumsiness at times and the courage he shows when it’s needed.

“Hermione,” you muse, drawing her attention as she turns her eyes from the book in front of her and at you. You smile softly.

“Did you know that a flock of crows is known as a murder? Pretty funny name, don’t you think?”

“And you’ve read it in Transfiguration book?” she asks, amused. She’s used to your sudden spurts of random facts, usually from Muggle world. She finds it endearing and given that she’s almost always studying, a facts from outside Wizarding world are more than welcome, a sort of break from learning about spells and magical creatures.

“No, I was reading about crows and it just popped out in my head.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me, I’d never look at flock of crows the same again,” she jests and the two of you burst into a short fit of giggles.

“Harry’s coming soon,” she singsongs teasingly, prompting you to frown slightly.

“I don’t see how it’s related to me writing an essay.”

“Let me tell you, my dear Y/N. Harry will need help with it, because he never listens at classes. I need to focus on my Potions essay so that leaves you to help him. You’re welcome.”

“You know that you can be really insufferable at times?” you tease, to which Hermione only sticks out her tongue and returns to her book. You sigh, taking your quill and toying with it.

“Crocodiles can’t do that. They can’t poke their tongue out.”

“Poor crocodiles,” a voice behind your back rings and you look over your shoulder spotting Harry. He smiles at you and takes a seat on your left, his gaze wandering over the books in front of you.

“Oh, so you’re my savior, Y/N!”

“Who says I’ll help you?” you quirk up your brow, a serious, stern expression on your face and Harry’s fast to make his best puppy eyes.

“Pleaaaase? I’ll bring you something nice from Hogsmeade.”

“I can go there on my own, you know that, right?”

“Of course, but I will find you the nicest thing you’d ever see, I promise!”

“Alright, alright, take out your parchment and let’s begin.”

Harry busies himself with fishing out necessary things from his bag and you dare a glance at Hermione. She has her gaze trained at the book but by the smirk playing on her lips you know she’s paying more attention to you and Harry than Potions.

“Do you even know what we’re writing about?” you ask him once he’s settled and Harry shakes his head.

“I didn’t listen, to be honest.”

“Why are you attending the classes then?”

“That’s easy, I want to know how to morph into an animal.”

“And for that you need to pay attention.”

“Maybe, but I keep forgetting stuff anyway.”

“Oh gosh, you better not morph into a squirrel. It forgets where it put about a half of the nuts it gathered. So, you might starve.”

“Really? What animal should I pick then?”

“I don’t think you can really chose an animal you’d morph into, isn’t it subconscious?”

“I think it is,” Hermione chimes in, nodding as she dabs the quill on her lips. “Besides, we learnt about Animagi on the third year, how do you still not know how it works?”

“Well, I, uhm… my mind was kind of elsewhere, I guess.”

“Oh, was it now?” Hermione teases again, an all-knowing look on her face and you fight back an urge to ask her what did she mean by that. She knows something, it’s evident, and you’re dying to know it, too.

Harry lowers his gaze, suddenly interested in Transfiguration book while Hermione smirks and winks at you.

“I’ll finish it in the common room. I sure need to make Ron write it as well. He still hasn’t started, has he?”

“As far as I know, he’s napping.”

“Oh, bloody hell,” she mutters as she gathers her stuff quickly, leaving confused you and a flustered Harry alone. You bite at your lower lips, trying to come up with something to say and ease the growing tension. Was it always like that when you and Harry were alone?

“Uhm, did you know that horses sleep while standing up?”

“Do they?” Harry jerks his head up, looking at you with raised brows. You nod fervently.

“Yes, and cows do too.”

“Oh,” he says, blinking and suddenly, you feel awkward. You fidget your fingers nervously.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said it. I just… I can’t stop it sometimes.”

“No, I love it!” Harry assures quickly and you chuckle nervously, feeling rather surprised by his statement.

“You know so much funny things, it’s simply amazing. I love hearing them, really.”

“Well, it’s good then.”

“Tell me something more,” he asks, leaning in a little and you smile before saying,

“Scotland’s national animal is the Unicorn.”

“Most likely chosen by a wizard.”

“Yes, it may be true.”

“Y/N, what would you say if I asked you to go for a walk with me now?”

“What about the paper?” you ask teasingly, knowing very well that neither of you can focus on it right now. Your heart is racing, excitement bubbling in your chest and transfiguration just doesn’t appear as important as it was few minutes ago.

Harry grimaces, although you can see the same anticipation in his eyes as he throws his stuff into his bag, stands up and offers you his hand.

“We’ll do that later, we still have a day to write it, right?”

“That’s right.”

“So, come with me. We’ll sneak around the castle a little.”

“The Room of Requirement is not far…” you suggest, collecting your things and taking his hand. Harry laces his fingers with yours and the two of you scamper out the library, heading straight to the Room.

Later that evening, as you lay in your bed, your finger absently sliding over your lips, still slightly swollen after kisses, a fuzzy feeling in your stomach, you add another fact to your collection.

Being in love feels wonderful. Magical, you’d say.


End file.
